


Let's Just Skip The Fairytale, Shall We?

by Medie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2012-11-14
Packaged: 2017-11-18 17:05:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/563385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"True love's kiss, my <em>ass</em>."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Just Skip The Fairytale, Shall We?

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

Is the first thing that Emma says when she opens her eyes to find Hook staring down at her. Her voice makes Hook grin, but it's a piss poor imitation of his usual smile. Emma doesn't want to think it, but he actually looks terrified. Worse than terrified. The man looks like he's gone ten rounds with the devil himself. 

Taking stock of the way she feels, every limb like lead and every breath a fight, Emma thinks that might actually be literal. Something happened, had to have, but she can't remember what it is. She can remember being in the street, seeing Hook, and turning to go into the Sheriff's station. After that, it's a complete blank.

Whatever happened, though, she can see it was _not. good._ It's there in the way he's not quite looking at her, sneaking glances and hiding worry behind 

"I don't want to know, do I?" she asks.

He clears his throat, blinks a bit, and shakes his head. "Most likely not. You'll never let yourself live it down." 

It takes Emma a second. "Oh my god, it was a curse, wasn't it? A sleeping curse?" She bolts upright with the thought. Or, well, she tries. Mostly she just tells her body to move, her body tells her to fuck off, and she lies there with a frustrated groan that she covers by glaring at him. "If you're going to tell me anything that involves the words true, love, or kiss? I _will_ hurt you."

"I was going to say nothing of the sort." Hook moves around so he can help her up with his hand while offering the hook for stability. Emma mentally crosses her fingers as she reaches for it, hoping not to embarrass herself again. 

She doesn't, but it's probably got more to do with the steadying hand at her back than any strength left in her arms. She doesn't let herself lean into the touch, but the fact that she wants to makes her want to punch something. 

"God, I feel like hell." 

"Lucky thing you look considerably better than that." Hook steadies her against the pillows before he pulls back to give Emma a look at where she is. Home. They're alone in the apartment which isn't worrying at all. 

She slumps back against the pillows, picking at the blankets and trying to ignore the part where she's in a nightgown. It has to be Mary Margaret's and the less said about that the better. "Where is everyone?"

"They've gone home," Hook says, his smile wry. He walks away from the bed, prowling around the space like he hasn't been searching through everything already. "Your father—Prince Charming, by the way? Interesting you didn't mention that—yes, well, he's the most persuasive sort when he wants to be. Sent the works of them home a few hours after this all got started. Told them you'd never forgive the works of them for hanging about and watching you sleep."

"It was none of your business," she says, glaring at him. "And he's right, I wouldn't." The idea makes her stomach churn, or maybe that's just the curse. Whatever curse it was. She should probably ask. Or at least stop him from poking around her place. God, _pirates_. "What happened anyway? I don't remember a thing." 

"Variation on the sleeping curse, it seems," Hook says. "Cora striking out from beyond the grave. At whom she intended to strike is unclear, but you were the unlucky lass to drink the potion."

He doesn't meet her eyes when he says that and Emma has a feeling why. She doesn't try to put it into any kind of coherent words or thought. The idea of it makes her chest tighten and she presses her lips together, looking down at her hands. 

Right. She'd taken his cup. She can remember the way he'd pouted when she'd turned away with it in hand.

"So, uh, where are, my, uh—" God, she has to get used to calling them her parents. Henry's book bag is on the floor and one of Mary Margaret's sweaters is sitting on top of it. They were here and, judging by the mugs by the sink, they were here for a long time. 

"Granny's. Quaint little spot that it is, she's been feeding the works of them since you fell under the curse." Hook fills a glass with water and comes back to her side. "I volunteered to keep you company."

"And they let you?" Emma grins. " _Right_."

"Aurora," Hook reveals with a little smile. "She thought I might be able to do something about this. Perceptive woman. Fine queen she'll make when she gets the chance." 

Emma closes her eyes. "Oh god, you really did kiss me." 

Hook smiles wide. She'd buy the smug act if his ears weren't a telltale shade of pink. "Just a little. Thought it couldn't possibly make things worse."

She snorts. "Have you met me? _Everything_ always gets worse."

His expression softens into something dangerous and she drops her gaze to the glass of water. "Ahh," he says, quiet and ominous, "but it didn't, did it? You're alive. Returned hale and hearty. Restored by--"

"If you say it, I swear to God I will pour this over your head." Emma brandishes the glass, glaring. "I am _serious_ Killian Jones."

He smiles again. Naked, unembarrassed _joy_. "True love's kiss, Emma. It can be nothing else. I kissed you and you came back. What else would you call it?"

She dumps the water over his head. "Completely ridiculous is what I'd call it." True love's kiss. She's never, ever going to get over how _stupid_ it is. 

Still, she grabs him by the shirt, ignoring the way his gaze heats with the promise of it. 

"And next time you kiss me, I'd better damn well be awake for it."

"Your wish is my command, milady," he says, making as if to lean forward.

With a grin of her own, Emma gives him a little shove back. "Just not today." 

"Well, then, in that case—" Hook drops a kiss on her forehead, then steps out of reach with a smile. "Always watch your words around a pirate, dear Emma. We tend to take you literally."

She'd throw a pillow at him, but she doesn't have the energy. She'll make him watch a Peter Pan marathon later.

"Why is it that your smile terrifies me more than Rumpelstiltskin ever did?" Hook actually does look wary and it's such a good look on him.

"Because."

"That's not an answer."

"Too bad, because it's the only one you're going to get today. Especially since the others will probably be back soon—" Emma thinks about that. Oh god. That's not good. Henry, Ruby, Granny...her _parents_.

This is going to be a complete disaster."

"And yet you're smiling," Hook says from the door. "You love me, Swan. Best get used to that." 

"Hell I will!" 

She does throw a pillow at him this time, but the jerk ducks through the door before it can hit him. 

"True love's kiss, my _ass_."


End file.
